Ha ha! Did ya hear it? Did ya? I CLICKED!!!! Look, I realize most of you aren't gonna read this fic, but it made me CLICK! I needed that thing, you know? Stupid as it sounds, this fic, a dumb Buffyverse crossover, did it. I was writing this last night because I was bored and didn't want to do paperwork and so I just started goofing around with this, but point is, I CLICKED! I've already started work on Part 10 of Chuck Versus the Road to Innocence. Part 8 should be posted sometime around midnight CST tonight. He he! I FREAKIN' CLICKED!

And yeah, this fic came about because I've been on a serious Buffy and Angel kick lately. For those in the know, wouldn't Yvonne make a great Slayer? That kind of struck me last night.

PART TWO: THINGS THAT GO POOF IN THE NIGHT

Ever since I was a little girl, I've had strange dreams. Nightmares, really. Of bumpy headed monsters with golden eyes and sharp teeth. Of young women, most of them teenagers, doing battle with these vicious beasts, armed with nothing more than a sharp piece of wood.

Then, six years ago, as I was in the recreation room playing a game of billiards in my dormitory at the CIA training facility in Langley, I collapsed to the ground in a fit of pain. Lucy, the fellow trainee who I was playing, rushed to my side. She feared I finally had a stroke or anxiety attack from the pressure of the academy. But when I stood, I felt different. Better. Stronger. Complete.

Little did I know at the time, but 3000 miles away, in a small town two hours north of Los Angeles called Sunnydale, a bad ass Wicca Goddess had performed a spell. This spell took the power of the Slayer – a girl infused with the power of a demon to help rid the world of other demons – and gave that power to everyone with the potential to be a Slayer. A pretty neat trick considering that for centuries, only one girl at a time possessed the power of the Slayer. And when that girl was killed, when she was inevitable felled in battle, that power transferred to the next. Except now, that power was transferred to nearly 1500 girls throughout the world. Fifteen hundred girls with the ability to battle the demonic forces of darkness threatening to destroy mankind.

Heavy, right?

Of course, I didn't learn any of this until three years later while working a mission in Prague. I was staking out a tavern, tailing the chief lackey for a local arms smuggler. Suddenly, I felt this odd sensation radiate throughout my body. Like every single hair standing on end. A tingle in the back of my brain. A general sense of unease.

It was the first time I ever sensed a vampire.

I was so at unease, I had to get out of that tavern. Fast. Forgetting my mission, I threw a few bills to the counter and fled the building, emerging onto a dark, wintry Prague street.

It was only a few blocks to my fleabag hotel. I decided to cut through an alleyway, hoping to get back to the relative safety of my room. It was irrational, I knew. And I was more than a little ashamed of my behavior. I was supposed to be a bad ass agent. I was already garnering a reputation as one of the CIA's best. And here I was, spooked by nothing more than a vague sensation of danger.

Then I felt it again.

"Help me!" a voice rang out. Sharp, female, American.

I turned, looking towards the entrance of the alleyway I entered moments before. A young woman – a girl, really – was half running, half stumbling towards me. No older than 18 or 19, she was disheveled, her plain black dress dirty and torn. Underneath the grime covering her face, I could tell she was a pretty girl. I could also tell she was terrified.

"Help me, please!"

Instinctively, I reached behind me, fingering the grip of the Colt pistol at my waistband. The girl may look innocent, but that didn't mean she wasn't a threat. "Miss?" I called out. "Are you okay?"

The girl ran into my arms, tears flowing down her cheek. "There's a man! He's chasing me! He's done things to me! Please, help me!" The girl turned, gazing back down the alley. "Oh God! He's here!"

Looking up, I saw a dark figure.

"Miss, stay behind me," I ordered, shielding the girl with my body. I drew my weapon and released the safety. "Sir, stand down!"

The dark figure slowly approached, the streetlights illuminating the man. He was incredibly handsome. Powerful build, dark hair, an almost angelic face. Clad entirely in black, the man smiled slightly as he continued to approach, his duster flapping behind him in the breeze, looking quite cool and sexy.

"Gotta give her an 'A' for effort," the figure said. "Although I don't quite buy her pathos, do you? But what do you expect? The acting academies in Prague are for crap."

"Sir, I'm warning you," I said with as much steel as possible. "If you do not desist, I will fire."

"I wish you wouldn't," the handsome figure said wryly. "I just bought this jumper." He then cocked his head curiously, staring at the girl behind me. In disbelief he said, "Seriously? You're gonna bite the girl who saves you? That's hardly polite."

Confused as hell, I turned to face the girl. I gasped in horror at the sight. The once beautiful girl's face had contorted into a monstrosity. Golden eyes stared back at me. Her tongue flicked between razor sharp fangs.

"To be fair," she smirked, "he is a real bad man. Of course, I'm a real bad girl, too."

Despite my shock, I turned my weapon on the girl. In quick succession, I pumped three rounds into her chest.

"Ooh," I heard the handsome man moan. "That won't do much besides piss her off."

To my utter astonishment, the girl collapsed against the damp brick wall behind her, but did not go down. Instead, her eyes snapped up to meet mine. With a horrible growl, she spat, "Bitch, I'm gonna drain you."

Suddenly, the handsome man was there. With a flick of his wrist, a stake dropped down the sleeve of his duster into his hand. Before the deformed girl could blink, he rammed the sharp wooden point into her chest.

The girl turned to dust and exploded. For several long moments I simply stared at the spot where she had recently stood, expecting to wake up from this nightmare at any instant. Instead, it was the handsome man touching my shoulder that confirmed this nightmare was reality.

I recoiled and jumped back a few steps. I aimed my weapon square at his chest.

"Are you okay?"

The concern in his voice nearly made me break into hysterical laughter. The handsome man held up his hands in a non-threatening manner.

"If I shoot you, will you stay up too?"

"Yes," the handsome man admitted. Just as I was prepared to pull the trigger, he added, "But don't worry. I'm not a biter."

Backing away a few more steps, I felt safe enough to spare a glance at the spot where the girl once stood. On the ground in her place was a pile of dust.

"D-did t-that girl just go… poof?"

"Yes." A few moments later, the handsome man inquired gently as possible, "Are you Sarah Walker?"

Unconsciously I nodded in reply.

"Good," he said. "I hate saving the wrong person. I've been looking all over for you. You're a hard girl to find."

"W-who are you?" I croaked out. To this day, I feel terribly foolish for how weak I sounded.

"My name is Angel," the man said. "And you and I need to talk."

END PART